


Who Says There Are No Happy Endings?

by ThreeWhiskeyLunch



Series: Bounty Hunter Blues [1]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Chiss, M/M, One Night Stands, Oral Sex, Stress Relief, that is the question, to bomb or not to bomb the eels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 16:47:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6247837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThreeWhiskeyLunch/pseuds/ThreeWhiskeyLunch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hutta is a stinking backwater planet full of whiners who can't run their own errands. Vozza'soz is having none of it. Until he does.</p><p>Voz's face reference can be found <a href="http://threewhiskeylunch.tumblr.com/post/141034426053/bounty-hunter-blues-threewhiskeylunch-star"> here</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who Says There Are No Happy Endings?

**Author's Note:**

> _Who says there are no happy endings? Thanks for the assist. Here’s your payment. Just like I promised. ~Nokril_

For the most part, I can’t be bothered with whatever the feck is going on on Hutta. Gang wars between Hutts on a planet that looks like someone has pulled it from the dung heap and sold it as gently-worn to an unsuspecting newborn in a back alley doesn’t really interest me. What does interest me is getting into the Great Hunt. And because of that, here I am, suddenly immersed in the complexities of a gang war on Hutta. It all makes my head pound in profound and complicated ways.  
  
I have some down time waiting around for the great Nem’ro, so I grab an ale at the cantina smack dab in the middle of the Hutt’s palace. Hoping for a bit of peace and quiet and not really expecting it to come about. Some self-made, two-bit criminal plunks himself down on the stool next to me and starts whining about eels. Of all the things. Fekking eels. And dumb me, I can’t help but turn and have a look at him. Which makes Two-Bit jump a little.  
  
My name is Vozza’soz and I’m a Chiss bounty hunter. And I’m pretty damn big for a Chiss, but it’s all muscle, believe me. You don’t see many Chiss running around the galaxy. They prefer to keep themselves to colder climates like Hoth and Ilium for good reason. The sweltering humidity of Hutta has even my sunny disposition on the down turn and I’d only been there for a couple days. A few too many, if anyone were to ask me. But I’m stuck here until I can get sponsorship for the Great Hunt. Stuck with the likes of Two-Bit and his fekking eels.  
  
The entire time I’ve been on Hutta, I’ve managed to _not_ help quite a few people. Get off your ass and do it yourself, as my grandma Ti’ni would have said. None of them can pay enough anyway, and I’d much rather stay focused on the task at hand. Which is why I’m completely confused about finding myself in a shack on the way to the middle of nowhere with a bomb set to destroy those eels. Yeah, alright. So I’m intrigued. It just seems so strange to me, using eels for drugs. Kinda want to have a gander at them. But one look at those slimy scales and their jagged-tooth grins makes me shudder. Getting spice out of that? My shiney blue hiney.  
  
“Hey, there. Aren’t you a tall glass of blue milk?” The voice comes from behind me (because yeah, I had turned my back to the door and yeah, that’s about the stupidest move I’ve made yet), but it turns out to be coming from the holo on the wall. Which is good. Very good. It’s hard to see from across the room, but the voice is nice and the cut of trousers even nicer. And the dark hair that nearly hides almost black eyes just needs to be pushed back a little. And maybe I can be the one to do that.  
  
“Hey, yourself.”  
  
Apparently I’m feeling wishy-washy. Because I dump the bomb. Far be it for me to mess with a guy’s eels. Yes, go ahead. Call me a hypocrite. Mr. Dark and Sexy on the holo agrees to meet back at the cantina and have a little chat with Two-Bit (whose name, it turns out, is Getzo, and isn’t that just about the most ridiculous made up gangster name I’ve ever heard). It’s been a long while since there’s been much of anyone and even over the holo there’s no mistaking the look in Mr. Dark and Sexy’s eyes. I have no loyalty to Two-Bit and Sexy is promising more credits.  
  
But honestly, I dump the fekking bombs just to get laid.  
  
Such is my life anymore.  
  
Turns out to be one of my better decisions of the last week.  
  
Mr. Dark and Sexy, who seems to prefer to be called by Nokril for some reason, keeps a room over the cantina so we make our way up there on an elevator and down a twisting hall. I keep my eyes on that ass in front of me, which makes Nokril smirk when he catches me, and bless the man it just makes him look more sexy and wicked.  
  
I manage to keep my hands to myself. You never know who’s watching and I’m not about to put either of us into some sort of compromise that could jeopardize our futures. And no, dumbass, not like that. Not our future together. This isn’t that kind of story. Not today anyway. Never been big on commitment. Not much room in the life of a no-name, underpaid, overworked bounty hunter for all that baggage.  
  
Anyway, the minute the door to his room closes, he has me pinned up against the wall, but only because I let him shove me there. He tries to pull my head down, muttering under his breath, “Shit, you’re tall.” I stop him with my hand over his mouth.  
  
“No kissing.” Because I don’t need that in my life either. Not that I don’t like kissing. I do like kissing. Too much probably. But kissing feels too much like commitment, holding close just for the sake of holding, wanting more than just a quick fuck and letting off steam.  
  
For a moment I think he’s going to protest and this is going to turn into another night of me wanking off alone, but then he gets this twinkle in his eyes and his fingers unbuckle my holster with deft fingers. “No problem,” he says. He slides his fingers down the front of my trousers, scratching the fabric, grabbing me, feeling how hard I am for him already. He rubs a little, barely enough for the sort of friction I need, but enough to keep the blood pumping in the right direction. He sinks down on his knees and puts his mouth to work over the cloth, nearly digging in with his teeth to get a good grip.  
  
I grin down at him, surprised that he’s going to tease a little. It’s always a pleasant surprise to find someone who’s willing to go the extra effort. Even if it is a quick fuck; doesn’t mean both parties can’t have a bit of fun while we’re at it. Even so, it’s not long before there’s plenty of unbuckling and unzipping and clothes are strewn from one end of the room to the next.  
  
For once, I think maybe Hutta might not be such a rotten place after all. Pretty sure tomorrow will prove me wrong.


End file.
